Maleficent
by Brooke Davis24
Summary: A dark curse hit the Enchanted Forest, casted by the frightening Maleficent. But Maleficent has not always been as bad as she looks like! She was once known as Emma and Killian Jones, the one she was engaged with since her birth year, is the only one who wants to try to save her. But nothing is as easy as it seems and Maleficent is worse than he could have imagined.
1. I know you

_**Summary:** a dark curse hit the Enchanted Forest, casted by the frightening Maleficent. But Maleficent has not always been as bad as she looks like! She was once known as Emma and Killian Jones, the one she was engaged with since her birth year, is the only one who wants to try to save her.  
**Notes:** The song that inspired me was 'Once Upon a Dream' by Lana Del Ray, so you can listen it, if you want, during the reading.  
This is one of my first english fic. So, I apologize for every mistake, but I'm really working on it. ;]_

**Chapter I  
I know you**

Darkness and death. It was all she has been carrying with her. The Enchanted Forest stopped being enchanted many years ago, when the most beautiful creature of all the realms appeared in a black cloud of dread and oblivion. Her name was Emma, but noone used to call her that way since she was a child. She was known as **Maleficent** by now.  
The inhabitants of the realm, both animals and people, didn't even see it to come, the_ danger_. And it made so easy for her to win over them with her charm that they couldn't stop the spell she casted over their land. Abruptly, the trees started to lose their leaves, the grass dried up, all the nature died and an unfathomable halo of darkness fell down them.  
But she did more than that. She stole their happiness, as she could glean a peerless pleasure from their suffering. She didn't need to see it, the pain, the despair, the fear; she could feel it on her skin, in the silence of the day, in the strong smell of death hovering over the trees and the roofs. And they could hear her happiness: in the darkest nights, they could hear the hoarse laugh coming from her castle, placed on the top of the mountain where anyone dared to reach, to haunt their dreams.  
"Goodmorning, sunshine!" she whispered, walking through the room, and, when she reached the balcony, she breathed in with smugness. A laugh, coming from the back of her throat, flooded the atmosphere and she couldn't help but laugh even more loudly, when she looked at the sky searching for the sun and she realized it wasn't there.  
"I love this place, my pet. Don't you?" she asked her raven, coddling his beak almost with tenderness. "I should have come many, many years ago, my pet. This forest and its weak inhabitants make me happier than I've ever been."  
Stretching herself, she was starting to hum a lovely music she used to sing when she was younger, different and people still knew her as Emma, when something draw her attention somewhere else.  
"We have visitors, my pet!" she said, eyes burning with amusement.  
Softly, she headed out for the inner rooms of the palace, walking through the corridors, the halls, down the stairs. Her long, black dress brushed against the cold marbel of the floor, following her even closer than her own shadow.  
"I know you. I walked with you once upon a dream…" she started singing, her voice cold and gentle at the same time, but the words sounded like a warning. "I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam…"  
A distant noise, as someone was walking fearless and waiting for her, rang out in the biggest hall of the palace and, when she reached it, all she could see was the masculine silhouette of a stranger. He was the first visitor since she arrived into the Enchanted Forest and she was pretty excited.  
"And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem…" she continued, her black, rough eyes set on him while she was walking down the stairs, the hems of the dress in her hands, the pale skin of the legs completely exposed. She was as maleficent as stunning.  
"Emma…" His voice echoed through the hall. There was terror and even homesickness in the four letters he almost whispered. "Is that really you?"  
"Apologize, sir, but there's no Emma in this palace. There's only me and my name is Maleficent. At your service!" She stretched one finger and her black raven roosted upon it. Gently.  
"That's not who you are, Emma. _I know you_. I know you more than anyone else." She tilted her head slightly to the left, both curious and confused. He took a step closer.  
"May I dare to ask your name, sir?" she asked and, even If her words sounded pretty polite, her tone showed him that there was something different in her, that she wasn't only Emma. Not anymore.  
"I'm Killian, Killian Jones." he answered and stopped before he could reach her. In the distance, looking at her, for the first time he realized that maybe it could be too late for him to save her. The corner of her mouth titled up and he couldn't help but thinking how beautiful she was, even more than he used to remember.  
The last time he saw her, they were adolescents, engaged since their birth year to satifly their parents'desire to found one strong realm. And briefly they tasted that dream, when Killian, eight years older than she was, fell for Emma without even realizing it; he was too proud and determined to be the master of his own destiny to accept that imposition. Long, blonde hair as her mather's and green eyes as her father's, Emma was as pale as the snow and her lips were as red as blood and she looked more stunning year by year.  
But their happines didn't last long. The morning of her seventeenth birthday, the threat made by the Evil Witch came true and Emma disappeared.  
"I see…" she said. "I think you risked your life invane, sir, and at you own risk." she smiled soflty, showing the white teeth, and Killian realized he was right. That dark, _maleficent _woman was Emma, his Emma.  
"I apologize, your majesty!" he said, recklessly.  
"So, you knew who I was…" she fell silent for a few seconds. "Follow me!"  
He knew it was insane. He knew he was risking his own life for a dream, for a glimmer of hope, for a fantasy, but he had the strong belief that it would worth it. He followed her through the palace, down the stairs, listening to her sweet and quite hum. When she stopped in front of a little door, waiting for him to go inside, he suddenly go weaker and weaker.  
"Emma, please, don't…" he was about to say but he couldn't. Walking through the door as soflty encouraged by an invisible hand, the last thing he could hear before passing out was Emma's voice singing:  
"You'll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream."


	2. Death is a moment

_**Note: **I wanna thank my beta, Miriam Lange, for her help. I can't even describe you how thankful I am. 3_

**Chapter II  
Death is a moment**

Strong blasts of wind rose against the walls of the castle, worming through the crevices and fluttering through rooms and corridors. In the grip of the hallucination, Killian imagined the wind occupied in a graceful, romantic waltz, and he could almost see it smiling and dancing and bowing at the end of the music as etiquette commanded. But his imagination was running wild because of the starvation of the last three days, and because of the air that was intoxicating his mind, making the idea of hurting himself even sweeter. There was something wrong in that cell, something that was making him weaker than he had ever been in his worst adventures.

The last time he saw Emma was the last time he ate something and also the last time he was clear headed. Not a sound was heard in that part of the castle, no footsteps or voices or even the raven that used to check out the situation for Maleficent. Was this the price he had to pay for his obstinacy? Was this the treatment she was going to give him, the _indifference_?  
Taking a seat against the wall, he looked out the little window in the cell and, even if he couldn't see much, he craved for freedom, for the withered branches, for the few thin hares that were still alive. That was all Maleficent had left them, all _Emma_ had left them. He gasped, trying to ignore the raging hunger he was feeling, and he almost believed it was a hallucination when he saw the door opening as by magic, showing him a plate of steamy food just outside the cell. He didn't think it could be a trap and, as a vulture in front of a carcass, he lunged toward it. He tucked into the food, trying to stock up on energies, and then tried to climb the stairs, but it wasn't easy: he was even weaker than when he arrived and he leaned on the walls more than once, trying to face the dizziness. Along the path, Killian asked himself why she decided to suddenly free him and not to kill him, even though it was so easy, and the thought that she actually _didn't want to_ started to penetrate his mind. And it became more than a mere doubt when Killian reached the top of the stairs and the hall where they first met, and he found the main door opened along with all the stuff he had been carrying with him in its imminence. Walking through the room, he could see it, the reason behind her actions: she wanted him to go back to his life, but, more than that, she wanted him to let her go, being happy with her life, and to never look back.

*  
A hashed fear was all over the Enchanted Forest and it could easily be felt by everyone who was brave enough to walk through its paths: that anxiety came from every inch, as if it wasn't just the reflection of its inhabitants, but as if all of nature was taking part in that drama in the first person. The crackling sound of the branches moved by the wind was only the first sign of the sickness that was all around, but it was clear enough to shock everyone who knew that place before Maleficent's arrival. Because of that, it was basically impossible to believe that a situation so painful for most could be a source of pure joy for another person, the one who was also the master of all the oblivion. Maleficent didn't just like the despair she could feel in her victims' heart; she _loved_ what she was looking at as if it was the sculpture of a talented artist. It was like her eyes could see in reverse: commendable for deplorable, shining for misery, pleasant for unbearable.  
Walking through the dying trees, the young lass smiled and, as she was burlesquing her victims' pain, she started to dance and it looked like the wind was following her lead, dancing with her and around her. Bending down her head enough to cross the arch created by the thorns, Maleficent was about to start humming, when something abruptly drew her attention somewhere else: staring over the forest line, she was amazed to catch the silhouette of a young girl, not older than eight, with long, blond hair, running about with a stuffer rabbit against her chest. _Happily_. How could it be possible that she was so cheerful when everything was dark all around her? How could it be possible, Maleficent asked herself, that her darkness wasn't touching that little girl?  
Her mouth half-closed, Maleficent couldn't stop herself from getting closer to the child and, when she stepped on a tiny branch, drawing the kid's attention to her, she stopped for a second, then reached one of the trees on the edge of the forest. The darkness hid her.  
«Who's there?» the child asked, the trembling of both fear and curiosity in her voice. In the glimmer of the moonlight, Maleficent's eyes sparkled with amusement. «I know you.»  
«Do you?» she said, the insane excitement in her eyes wondering what it would be like, to horrify that innocent lady and to haunt her dreams for many, many nights to come.  
«Yes… Everybody knows you!» she answered quietly. «Come out! Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you…»  
«Oh.»  
A hoarse laugh filled the atmosphere and suddenly the child realized the truth of the warning her parents had been repeating to her about the beast who ruled the forest. She realized the danger of being so close to her, but she didn't run. Despite all the evidence, the most innocent part of her wanted to look at the beast and believe that it wasn't so terrible; she wanted to tell the people how the beast spared her life and let her go.  
«Then you'd be afraid.» she said and came out. The silvery light of the moon fell all over her stunning silhouette and Maleficent could hear the sigh of relief coming from the young lady's mouth.  
«You're very beautiful.» she confessed, smiling at Maleficent and mastering the courage to take a step closer. Maleficent smiled back at her, sweet and charming as she could be, and stretched her right hand to make the child trust her. «Are you going to hurt me?»  
«Why should I?» she asked, tilting her head as she wasn't able to see the reason behind that question. Bending down on her knees, Maleficent smiled softly. «Would you like to meet someone?» The child's eyes shined in excitement.  
«Who?»  
«Come, my pet!» she said and, stretching her hand enough for her raven to roost on it, she waited for the child's reaction. Something deranged burned in her black eyes as she wanted to steal all that innocence and leave that body as an empty trunk. Quietly, the young lady started to come closer, her heart beating so fast at the idea of touching the bird that she let her stuffed rabbit fall.  
«Stop it!» a voice screamed and, as awaken from a deep dream, the kid jumped and ran away, leaving Maleficent on her knees. _Dissatisfied_. Despite her disappointment, she looked peaceful and serene when she turned back to face the person coming from the heart of the forest.  
«Killian Jones!»  
«You wanted to kill her, didn't you?» he asked, walking toward her, but he stopped when he met her eyes and he read the worst dismay on them. And that black oblivion threatened him.  
«That's not what you wanna ask.» she corrected him and Killian looked confused. «You want to know why I didn't kill _you_, why I freed _you_.» she said and smiled, raising her arm to help her raven fly. There was something thespian in her manners, as if every move was planned to make Maleficent look like the main character and everything else as a mere side characters.  
«Why? Why this?» Killian asked. «Why don't you just kill us all?»  
Maleficent sighed, almost disappointed in him, in his incapability to capture the main reason behind her actions. She started walking, ready to come back to her castle, but, when she was about to go past him, Killian grabbed her wrist. He couldn't even understand why, but he was relieved to feel that her skin was soft and silky as many other women's. For a long time, he refused to meet her gaze, even if he could feel Maleficent's eyes firmly placed on him, and, when he did, his heart skipped a beat: in the deep darkness of her soul, he could see a glimpse of his Emma, but he asked himself if it was real or if he just needed to believe it.  
«Death doesn't offer me joy, Killian Jones. Death is just a moment, and a moment of happiness in a whole life is almost nothing.» she paused for a few seconds and smiled. «But suffering… Oh, suffering can last forever and is even more cruel than death.» she said and she read his inner thoughts, then she kept going. «Just as much as the love you feel for your Emma, sir. Isn't that horrific the way you love her and the way it deprived you of your reasoning when you came to my castle where no one dares to come?» Killian opened his mouth, but she stopped him from talking. «And, if I told you that I lied, that the woman you love so desperately is alive and that your cell was even closer to hers than you think, it wouldn't be horrific for you to sacrifice yourself in the name of that love?» She fell silent for a moment, while the pleasure of seeing all that pain in his eyes was burning in her chest. For a few seconds, in the condemnation of her eyes, he felt condemned himself. «And, yes, I could free her, but your death is not what I want.» Abruptly, she came closer, so close that, if he had leaned over her, their mouths would have been touching. «What I truly desire in exchange for her freedom is your slavery, so that I will make the both of you miserable and I could feed on your misery.»  
When she fell quiet, her eyes never stepped back from his. They both stayed that way for what looked like an eternity, then she lifted her hand to Killian's face and caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers, as delicate as a breeze. It was a moment and, wrapped in a purple cloud of magic, Maleficent disappeared, leaving the echo of her words ring out in his head. Was Emma her prisoner?


	3. One day Perhaps

_**Note: **__This chapter is a little bit longer than the other two and I hope you'll like it, 'cause I really enjoyed writing it. And, again, I need to thank my beta, __Miriam Lange__, for her patience, for her help, for her kindness. Without her, you would read some __horrors and I'm glad you won't.  
__About the person who asked me about Maleficent/Emma's parents, they're not Snow White and Prince Charming and you'll get to know them better in the future; at least, I hope so. :]  
__About the confused one because of the story, I know it's a little bit of a mess, but you're going to figure out some things starting from this chapter. I hope you'll have the patience to keep reading. :]  
__In the end, the last part of the chapter can be read with 'Once Upon a Dream' by Lana Del Rey. I put the link where you can start listening to it.  
__If you would like to let me know what you think about the chapter, feel free to tell me anything. I'd love it! :]  
I'm sorry for any possible mistake!_

**Chapter III  
One day. Maybe.**

The day that Killian Jones opened the main door of the big, quiet castle, Maleficent exulted over the result she was able to reach. Three nights had gone by since the last time they spoke, and, even though she couldn't have any absolute certainty, she was sure that sooner or later, driven by the love that was inflaming every fiber of his being, he would have come to her to accept her offer. She didn't know what love was, she didn't know how powerful that feeling could be, but the strength of the emotions she had seen in his eyes every time the name of his beloved lady was formed with his lips, or the vibes she could see in those stormy blue eyes when she told him of Emma's fate, made her sure her pleasure would not be neglected.  
That morning, the creaking of the main door woke her up and, when she came across Killian, she got a foretaste of the victory in her mind, in her heart, on her tongue. And she couldn't wash away that insane feeling that was overwhelming her when she thought about the _trick_ she had played on him. Because, yes, she tricked him! She didn't have any idea of who Emma was, or of what happened to her, or of the intensity of their bond. According to her instinct and the circumstances of her arrival, Maleficent logically supposed that everything that happened to the lady couldn't be connected to her, because she had never heard of Emma before Killian's notice. And, even if she wasn't interested in romance, she couldn't help but blame herself when she realized the missed opportunity. She could have taken advantage of that feeling: love made people weak and she could have used that weakness to afflict even more misery on the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest. Killian Jones would only have been the first link a long chain of wrecked lives.  
It was impossible to sketch out the excitement in her eyes or the irregular pulse of her heart. There was something warm and even quiet in her gaze, always burning with sick pleasure in the face of a sinister circumstance, something that not even the most talented artist or writer would have been able to describe. Wrapped in her long black dress, she greeted him and asked him to wait for her there, while she was going to get his loved one. And Killian listened to her! When Maleficent came back and placed herself on top of the stairs, he was still there, motionless.  
The moment when she attended to their reunion was one of the happiest days of her existence and she couldn't stop the sporadic laugh coming from the core of her being, while the room echoed with her laughter. How was it possible to explain the pleasure she was feeling? How was it possible to describe the mixture of feelings her body was shaken by because of her trick? Because it was nothing more than that, a trick! Maleficent lied to Killian when she told him Emma was her prisoner. The young lady he was caressing, kissing, cuddling, was the beautiful princess of a close by realm who was paying the price of her vanity. Maleficent had met her many months ago and she could clearly remember the way the princess spoke to her, threatening Maleficent to defeat her power and make her nothing more than a vague memory to tell her future children, to show them the unbeatable strength of their kingdom. It was a sunny afternoon when Maleficent kidnapped her and locked her in a cell specially built for the occasion, a cell where the walls were covered by mirrors. Her beauty and the passing of time was fitting punishment for her pride. The irony was that her name was Belle.  
To fog Killian's sight so that he could see Emma's lineaments on Belle's face and Belle's sight so that she could see her noble knight's lineaments on Killian's face was easy and it didn't require a lot of magic. And Maleficent had to force herself to stay in place and not to go to the two of them while she attended their reunion. When Killian said "Emma", Belle heard her name, just as when Belle said "John", Killian heard his name. They kissed and hugged each other with a deep tenderness, with an affection that would have damaged Maleficent's happiness if it hadn't been the prelude of a bigger suffering.  
_"I don't want you to stay! It's horrific and I love you. I don't wanna live without you!"_ she said, her voice broken from crying and with a tear-streaked face, as if a battle was raging in her heart between the joy of her freedom, the forthcoming split, and the guilt over her lover's fate. _"Oh, Emma!"_ he whispered, his lips caressing her eyelid in relief. _"We don't have another choice and you could live with your family, far away from here. You have to forget me as much as I have to forget you. That's the only way we can defeat her,"_ he said and he looked at her with a soft gaze. What came after that was a sickening, unbearable sequence of promises, apologies, forgiveness, prayers that Maleficent barely noticed and, for a brief moment, her eyes fell in disapproval until her beloved raven showed up and pushed the two of them away from each other with venomous impetuosity. Eventually, the main door of the castle was closed and the raven came back to her.  
Maleficent kept quiet for a long time, her happiness restored, but her black eyes never left Killian's silhouette, and, when he turned to her, he realized the unusual satisfaction that she was feeling. He regretted his attempts to find something of Emma in her, his certainty that Maleficent actually was his Emma, because he realized it was impossible. That woman, whose beauty was as distressing as much as her cruelty, had nothing of Emma.  
«And so?» he said, shutting down the part of him that wanted to be quiet. The most pugnacious, impulsive part of him was sure that a woman like Maleficent, who lived all alone in such a big castle and with such a pure joy, should love the silence and he didn't want to give in to her wishes. At all.  
«Yes?» she answered back, lightly tilting her head.  
«Nothing to say? What do you expect me to do?» he kept asking, getting close to her at a slow pace and threw the bag he carried with him on his shoulder. «What's my destiny, now that I traded my life for Emma's?» He kept moving, until he was a few steps away from her.  
«You can choose, Killian Jones: dungeons or a normal room?» The man jumped and scowled at her, unwilling to believe that she was telling the truth.  
«May I? Don't you just want to throw me in a dungeon?» he asked, and she sighed and shook her head just like during their last meeting. She barely smiled, her lips as red as blood, and again Killian couldn't help but to find something of Emma in her manners. But how was that possible, when he had touched his lover's arms, and lips, and eyes, and eventually had seen her running away from the castle? How was that possible when he knew Maleficent _could not_ be Emma?  
«Oh, Killian Jones!» His name sounded sweeter on her red lips. «If that's what you want, your wish will be granted, but I have to say that I'd prefer to see your miserable soul haunting the castle, rather than to pay you a visit at the dungeons. But, if that's what you wish…»  
«No. No dungeons» he interrupted her and she fully smiled, so fascinating that for the first time Killian _truly_ understood why the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest couldn't stop her or realize what her aims were before it was too late. Even though her being was dominated by a mad degeneration, there was pureness and innocence in her, and he realized he would have fallen for them as much as the others if he hadn't been away when she first came and if his love for Emma hadn't been his compass.  
«Well, then follow me, sir.»  
And he did, even if that scene was so similar to the one that saw him locked in a cell for three days the first time he reached her castle. Following her, Killian couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the castle and of its mistress, and, even though he felt a hatred and a disdain for her that he never felt for anyone else, he admitted to himself that his heart would have skipped more than one beat, if she had been a normal human being. Maleficent was different than the enemies he was used to, she didn't hurt or kill or rape; her weapons were more subtle, more cruel, and she used life itself and its traps to wound people where everyone else used the sword. And Killian realized that she was the most dreadful enemy he had ever faced in his whole life.  
«I have to warn you, sir. Sincerely» she said when they reached the room that was supposed to be his. Killian stopped in front of her, only a few centimeters left between them. «I'm not used to kill, I'm not that sort of person, but I already have and I won't hesitate if you will break our agreement.» she warned him and fell quiet, so that he could realize she wasn't lying. «I will kill you or her depending on my exquisite pleasure and I will let the other live, preventing the other from committing suicide. And trust me, the life of the survivor will be much worse than any torture, any pain, any horror you have ever seen in your life.»  
Her black eyes were overwhelmed by the shadows of the monster she was, and, even though Killian had been trying to find a way out, he realized he would have been a fool by trying to escape Maleficent's desire. He needed to _defeat_ her, not to run away from her.  
«You have my word, Your Majesty. I won't try to run away from you, ever, and I would send Emma back to her realm if she would try to come to rescue me.» She stared at him for a very long time as she was weighing his words. «I believe you and your words and I'm not a fool. Trading my life for Emma's, I made a decision and I will honor it.» Abruptly, without any possible explanation, his heartbeat raised.  
«When you arrived at my castle, your purposes were different» she said, and Killian was surprised. How could she know that?  
«You're right…» he answered back, staring at the floor selflessly. Then his eyes reached for hers and he smiled. «But now you can see I'm not lying, that I'm honest. I gave you my word and I will honor my promises.»  
«I hope so, sir.» Maleficent lowered her gaze for an instant, then suddenly took one step closer, narrowing the gap between them. «Because I'm not used to go back on a promise as much as you do.» Maleficent stared over his shoulders for a moment, then back at him, smiling softly, and Killian realized what she was going to tell him even before she started speaking again. Suddenly, her hands grasped his arms almost painfully, and, for the first time, he got the most threatening look he had ever seen on her face. «I may not have lifted a finger on the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest or not have killed anyone, but that doesn't mean that I despise the blood's warmth on my skin, because I do like it» she whispered, and he almost drowned in the black cruelty of her eyes.  
When she loosened her grip on his arms, Killian had no time for saying something, because she went past him through the corridor. The sound of her heels tapping on the floor was all she left behind.

After that moment, it took more than a week for Killian to meet Maleficent again. Except for some casual encounters and when he saw her walking through the garden from the window of his room, it looked like she was avoiding him, or, at least, it looked like Killian's arrival changed nothing in her routine. To make up for it, she never failed to deliver a meal to him or anything else he needed, and Killian couldn't help but start asking himself how that worked. Was the castle empty except for the two of them and the raven, or did she have invisible employees? Or was it happening by magic?  
Something changed one evening, the evening when a woman screaming in pain was heard around the castle. Coming back to his room, Killian got a glimpse of the raven roosted on a chair with a tiny scroll tied to his paw. Cursing the animal for biting him, he unrolled the scroll and read:

_"Tonight, dinner will be served in the dining room."_

Confused, he obeyed the written request, and, when he started having stomach cramps, he walked out his room. Even though he had asked himself how he would have reached the room without any guidance, he soon realized that he didn't need any: to make sure he would have been able to arrive at the hall, Maleficent only lit up the palace's areas that he had to walk through. And so he did.  
When he reached his destination, Killian was astonished by the state of the room. It was darkness-shrouded with two big fires on the two opposite sides and a table was placed in the centre of the room, set with the finest silverware and flowers and candles. At some other time, he would have felt comfortable, but, in that moment, he couldn't help but feeling weird, not because he wasn't worthy, but because he wasn't dressed properly. And his astonishment grew when his stormy blue eyes rested on Maleficent.  
She was dressed in a gorgeous evening gown with a black, strapless bodice and a no-frills full skirt of the same color; and _surprisingly_ it suited her much better than the other one. Her long hair, usually straight, was now softly curled, and caressed the pale skin of her shoulders. She was enchanting, simply enchanting.  
«Good evening, Killian Jones!» she said, and he needed a moment to realize that he was standing in the middle of the arc which led into the room with his mouth open. Acting nonchalant, he made his entrance into the room and bowed a bit.  
«Good evening, Your Majesty!» he answered, but she smiled and shook her head.  
«Call me Maleficent, please» she requested and he nodded. Getting close to the table, he noticed it was set for just one person. «Sit down, sir. You must be hungry!»  
«Killian. Call me Killian» he interrupted her before she could go on, and he followed her with his eyes when she took a seat on an armchair next to the fire. «Don't you..?»  
«I'm not used to eat along with other people, but feel free to eat, please» she encouraged him, and Killian couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. He could easily understand her discomfort, but not the meaning of the evening itself. Why did she arrange a dinner if she didn't want to eat with him?  
«It's been a while since the last time I saw you» he said, trying to change the subject to break the silence. Looking at Maleficent, who was staring at the fire intensely, Killian realized how comfortable she was with silence from the relaxed position of her shoulders, from the intent look on her face, from the rhythmic drum of her fingers on the goblet she was holding.  
«I'm not sure if you're talking about _seeing_ me or of _talking_ to me.» She glanced up at him and her crimson lips lifted up. Killian couldn't stop himself and smiled back at her, vaguely amused.  
«That's what I meant» he answered.  
«Did you miss me?» she teased him, and her black eyes, which were reflecting the movement of the fire, showed an innocent cunning that made him laugh a little bit more.  
«You mean your threats?» he asked, raising an eyebrow with an impudent look on his face.  
«_Touché_!» she answered, and, still laughing, took a sip of the beverage in her goblet.  
«Did you ever live with someone, Maleficent?» he burst out, and she looked at him with a huge curiosity while he was eating bread and soup. Maleficent realized that the more she was trying to remember her past before the Enchanted Forest, the more she couldn't see any person, any place that could help her to answer that question. It looked like a thick fog was hiding her memories and even her life from her, and she couldn't do anything about it.  
«Yes, but I don't remember, actually.» She frowned and tried to defeat the fog, but she lost. «I don't remember at all, but it doesn't matter. I love solitude. It doesn't bother me» she said, and her intent expression was replaced by a relaxed one.  
«Mmm» he muttered, and his moan drew her attention so that Maleficent started to stare at him.  
«What?»  
«I'm trying to figure out if I should be honored or not, since you decided to put an end to something you love so much» he confessed, and he looked conceited and sarcastic at the same time as he was getting rid of Maleficent and her lifestyle. But she laughed, laughed with a hoarse and beautiful sound before she stood up and got closer to the table. Her gaze was sharp when she looked at Killian.  
«One day, perhaps, you'll figure it out. _One day_. _Perhaps_.»  
Setting down the glass on the table, she fully smiled at him, then she turned her back and walked away. Killian couldn't help but stare at her, while the darkness was about to swallow her silhouette, just before she turned on a torch with a twitch of her hand. When it was impossible to see her anymore, he looked at his dish and he was about to fill up his soup spoon when the echo of a melody reached his ears and made him jump.  
_"I know you. I walked with you once upon a dream…"_

*  
watch?v=TZ44x0GnKh4  
His steps ran fast on the marbled floor, following the trace that Maleficent left behind, and his heartbeat raised for no apparent reason. He wasn't worried, he wasn't hopeful, he wasn't scared. He was simply curious, but that curiosity was burning every inch of his being, every inch of his soul to such an extent that, as the fire was torching the stumps into the fireplace, he risked burning himself. He didn't know what to expect, he didn't know what was fair for him to expect, but, above all, he didn't know _**if**_it was fair for him to wish anything. But, when he turned the corner and his gaze reached the dancing, close-eyed Maleficent and he realized she was dancing with nothing, with no one, he burned with a feeling he couldn't explain because it had so many different sides that he wasn't sure he wanted to explore it.  
The day he met and let Emma go far away from that castle, trading his life for hers, he made a decision: the decision to forget her and the feelings he had been carrying with him this whole time, and to never look back. He knew Emma since she was a child, eight years younger than him and stunning in her magical beauty; that meant it would not have been easy to fulfill his aim to leave her behind, but he was stubborn and strong, and he didn't want Maleficent to accomplish her goal. So, he knew Emma and Maleficent were two different people, he had proof of that a week ago when he kissed the former and was reduced to slavery by the latter. But _still_, watching Maleficent dancing as she was wrapped into the arms of the most tender lover, he saw a glimpse of his Emma, of the naughty, young, stunning lady she used to be before he left.  
_"I know you. The look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam…"  
_Looking at her, Killian realized that, even though her eyes were closed, she wouldn't have made any mistake. Because she was not dancing for anyone but herself, moved not by magic, not by pride, not by mathematical movement, not by fear. She was enjoying every single step as she was dancing in the air, light as a feather, in a valley where she was all alone and no one could see her.  
_"And I know it's true that vision are seldom all they seem…"  
_Unexpectedly, he moved forward, bursting into the hall with a certainty that wasn't fitting well with him being a prisoner, and, not controlling himself, when Maleficent leaped next to him, Killian put his arms around her as the lover with whom she had been imagining dancing with. Surprised, she jumped, and, looking at him, she stared at the man for a very long time as if she wanted to understand his purposes, as if she wanted to know his feelings. But there was nothing but confusion in his soul!  
Placing a hand on her hip and getting her close until their bodies were touching, he entwined her tapered fingers with his and waited for her to run away from him, because that was what her gaze was screaming. In the depth of her black eyes, Killian read her heartbreak, as if no human being had ever tried to touch her except to hurt her, as if her cold hands had never felt the warmth of other hands, as if she was scared to get crumbled by his touch. And, clasped in his arms, Killian realized she was fragile, so fragile that he couldn't stop his lips from saying:  
_"But, if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love at once, the way you did once upon a dream…"_


	4. Scared and melancholic

_**Note: **__As always, all the credits to my amazing beta, __**Miriam Lange**__, for checking my chapter out. She's an angel! Then…  
First of all, I need to say something about this chapter: I wrote it on Valentine's day and, even if I couldn't publish it first, I think it got affected by the romanticism a bit. In the limits of the story, of course.  
Second of all, I wanted to thank you the people who left a review to my chapter 'cause they make me very happy and grateful. So, thank you heartily, peeps!  
Third of all, as always, I leave you the link of the song that inspired me. It's 'In my veins' by Andrew Belle.  
__Leave me a review, if you want to. I would be pleased. :]_

**Chapter IV  
Scared and melancholic  
** watch?v=GSYnOeO5rdk

Contradiction. It was all he could have said about his life, about his condition, if anyone would have asked him, if, however unlikely, anyone would have gone to the castle that all the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest have been avoiding for months. Anyone but him. Because, even if it was hard to admit it, he knew he was over presumptuous and over arrogant the day when he decided out of the blue to leave in order to save Emma, not even thinking about the consequences. As always, driven by the arrogance and the poise he had always been proud of, he didn't listen to his own parents, not even to Emma's parents when they begged him not to make such a mistake and increase the number of Maleficent's victims. And he was paying a high price for his self-pride.

But that poise that had always guided him his whole life seemed to have left Killian, replaced by the uncertainty that was poisoning his existence. He was a prisoner, _but_ no chains were stopping his movement, nor was the door of his room locked to prevent his escape. He sacrificed his own life for the woman he was in love with, _but_ he begged her to find a new love, to move on without him; the woman he could have been with at the proper time if he wasn't too stubborn to accept his parents' wish. A wish that, at some point, started to reflect his own desire. He saw and touched Emma until they got separated, _but_ he kept trying to find something of her in the only woman he was supposed to hate. He should hate Maleficent and he partially did, but he wasn't sure he would have ever been able to lay a finger on her, or even not to stop anyone who would try to hurt her. He wasn't sure about that since the night they danced together.

But what was the point? What was the explanation behind all the confusion, all the contradiction he was living in? He needed a reason, a tiny solution to unravel the knots that were torturing his mind and his heart. Because Killian Jones was not a man who could live like that, letting fate take away the choices he was supposed to make, a fate he didn't believe in.

Lying on the bed in the room he finally got used to, he sighed and closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to control the flow of his thoughts with which he has being torturing himself over and over. Even though he wanted to stop that torment, his mind kept proposing to him the conceptions of _that_ evening again and again and again and, in the biggest contradiction his being has been poisoned with since he reached that castle for the first time, he gave up and recollected the memories of their dance more than once, until his soul was overwhelmed by them and solitude became an excuse to go back to that hall.  
His hands clearly remembered the touch of Maleficent's skin against his, the way her fingers lay unarmed in his for a very long time and the way her fingers started to absorb Killian's warmth until they heated up. His eyes painfully remembered the look on her face, first bewildered and then uncertain, and he was worried and relieved at the same time by the memory of the dread he read in her gaze. He couldn't believe that a creature like her, so cruel, could have been scared of him. He couldn't believe that a powerful witch, whose magic brought desolation and grief upon an entire population, could have been so confused, so lost, when he closed his arms around her.

When he went to her that night, he didn't think about anything and he was led by the instinct he had always been relying on. But that instinct of his played a trick on Killian, because dancing with her affected not only his mind, but also his emotions. When Maleficent relaxed into his arms and they started dancing through the hall in the pace of music that was playing only in their minds, Killian understood that the reasons behind his gesture were complex and not all of them could be explained by the fact that Maleficent could have been Emma or, at least, by the fact that she reminded him of his loved one; and he knew that for certain when, after a while, he looked at her while she was running away from him, because he sighed heavily, as if he held his breath the entire time they had been dancing, and his body tensed in complaint, as if he wasn't ready to let her go.

Hugging her tightly, he enjoyed the warmth of her body and he used it to drive away the cold and the solitude of the last week, and for a moment he believed he had _truly_ missed her. Was that what she wanted, to put him under pressure so that he would start believing that he cared for her? Or was she using her magic just for her pleasure, to get rid of him? But Killian knew that it was silly, that it couldn't be possible, because it would _contradict_ the reasons behind his slavery, his being in love with Emma and being far away from his loved one for the rest of his life.

_Contradiction_. There it was, always there, stuck there. And it was sticking to Killian too, forcing him to roam around like a desperate soul. Abruptly standing up, he looked outside the window briefly and he couldn't help but feel sorry for the sun, which was fighting a war against the fog that Maleficent had brought with her arrival, unable to win against all that darkness. He missed the Enchanted Forest of his childhood, because it reminded him of a moment of his life when he was happy, happy like he had never been since then. He reached for the door and the moment when he went through it, he felt his body relaxing and all of his tribulations fell away from him. And he felt relieved as if he has been drowning , but eventually beat the water and was able to breath again.

His feet ran quietly across the corridor, knowing the destination. Killian Jones was a man used to fighting, not running, and that was the reason why he went to Maleficent's room without any second thoughts: he did not want to avoid her. He wanted to know his enemy so that he could understand how to defeat him. But still he didn't know if his enemy was Maleficent or himself. Coming closer to the open door, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the beautiful, beautiful woman on the balcony, her long, black hair moved by the breeze, her face apparently absorbed in deep reflections. He had always liked her beauty, but there was something more that was keeping him there, stuck with a shoulder resting on the doorpost and a strange feeling in his stomach.

«Hey!» Once again, he couldn't keep his lips under control. Suddenly Maleficent turned her head, taken by surprise, but her expression relaxed when she recognized him; she smiled almost sweetly, not a trace of the insane, spasmodic cruelty they both were used to appear in her eyes. Three days had been gone since the night they danced together.

«Hey!» she said back and Killian sniggered, hanging and shaking his head until his eyes were back on her.

«Did I interrupt something?» he asked, moving away from the doorpost and making his entrance into the room, which was essential, elegant and cold, both similar and different from its owner. When he passed the bed where she was supposed to sleep, his gaze lingered on it for a few moments without a reason, his thoughts too frozen and confused for him to understand all of them.

«No, nothing that was worth my time» she answered, and, when he reached for her, Maleficent stared at him, a few feet from the balustrade where she was almost sitting. In that moment, her eyes were so quiet, so deep and beautiful in their nostalgic look that Killian saw it, the vulnerability that motivated him to hold her for almost a half hour on the note of a fictional melody. Instinctively, he raised an eyebrow as if he was asking for some explanation.

«Do you remember asking me about my past, if I ever lived with anyone?» Killian nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. «I told you that I didn't remember and I wasn't lying. So, in these days, I've been trying to recall my memories of places and people from my past, but it looks like everything's blurry.» She fell silent for an instant and Killian realized that he wasn't the only one who was touched by their last meeting. A part of him was relieved by that revelation, but another one was deeply concerned, because, even if her words meant that she wasn't playing any tricks on him and that he wasn't the one who had inexplicable feelings, he wasn't sure of the meaning of their sudden connection. «Can you see the fog?» Her black eyes left his and when she turned her back to him, they explored the dreadful landscape in front of them. Killian took a step closer until he was just behind her, and he could feel her hair and the cloth of her long dress touching his face and his pants, respectively. «It's like my past is wrapped by the same fog, just thicker, so that I'm not able to see what's in there. I get a glimpse of silhouettes and profiles, but nothing clear.» Once again she fell silent, and the man realized that she was trying to defeat the fog that was trapping her memories.

«Is it so important for you to remember?» he asked, and he watched her turn around, inch by inch, until she was facing him, closer than they have ever been in circumstances as peaceful as that one. When they danced together, their faces pulled closer, cheek to cheek, but never really touching, and their steps started slowing down, their breaths more regular but their thoughts running wild, so wild that none of them would have heard the other one if a word had left their mouths. Thinking about it, Killian was about to smile, but he realized it was not the proper moment, so he just waited.

«Try to imagine a life where you don't know how you became who you are, Killian, a life of which you don't have any memory, or even know if you have lived it at all. Would you be happy?» she said, her gaze still quiet, and Killian admitted to himself that he was enjoying that version of Maleficent, because there was humanity and even wisdom in her, qualities that he couldn't believe she had, so young and still so cruel.

«Are you unhappy, then?» he ventured to ask and, just like he did before when he was at the door, arms crossed, she laughed a bit and looked away, her eyes brushing against the walls of the castle.

«I've never been unhappy as far as I remember. So I don't know what it feels like. I can just tell you that this uncertainty is not enough to ruin my actual happiness, but I keep thinking about it when I have time» she answered, and her sincerity humbled him deeply, because he was expecting anything but such a genuine explanation about a situation that was torturing and devastating so many innocent people. When Maleficent's eyes met his, Killian realized that the evil sickness she had inside her was about to be back and he became alarmed. He didn't want that moment to be over, he wasn't ready to let her go yet.

«You know, there are some things about my past that I would like to change» he said abruptly, and left both her and himself speechless. Was it possible that two weeks of imprisonment and solitude were enough to get him to the point of making him crave a conversation? Killian Jones, who had lived of solitude for many years? Her words from their last night together rang in his mind: _"but it doesn't matter! I love solitude. It doesn't bother me." _«For example, the fact that I ran away from my family, from my home, as if it was a prison, as if it was a torture living there, just to realize that it was not the place that was wrong. It was me!» His blue eyes stayed into hers, as if the blue could defeat the darkness, like water with fire.

«And you regret to have left Emma behind and to have come when it was too late» she completed his sentences, and Killian shook his head, sighing, his lips curled in a soft, amused smile. One day, he would have realized if it was mere perceptiveness or mind reading. _One day, perhaps,_ she would have said.

«Yes. That too.»

«Why did you leave, if you were so in love with her? Because I suppose you already loved her before your departure, otherwise the sacrifice you made would be useless or even meaningless» she pushed him, sincere curiosity in those eyes that Killian was starting to like. Sniggering, he raised his eyebrows and took an attitude that he didn't take for a very long time, an impudent and amused look on his face that made him look younger than he was. Without even realizing it, he snapped at his bottom lip and then licked it, as he was used to do when he felt pressured.

«Is that so? You suppose?» he asked and she laughed, so beautiful that she took his breath away.

«You couldn't be in love with the memory you had of Emma, could you? And if that were so, your sacrifice was chivalrous, but foolish.» She fell quiet while he was looking at her, smiling, his eyes shining as never before since they first met. «So I hope you really loved her and that it was True Love.» An insolent cunning colored the blue of his eyes.

«Am I supposed to think that you're starting to _care_ about me, Maleficent?» Killian watched her laughing and, for an instant, he got the impression that they were nothing more than two normal people, a man and a woman that were teasing each other.

«Is that so? You suppose?» she mocked him.

«_Touché_!» he echoed her, remembering the other night, and once again she smiled, not ready to give up on their little argument.

«Am I supposed to think that you're starting to _care_ about me, since you remember my words so well, Killian?» They both laughed and it was difficult to believe that scene. His own parents would have doubted that it was Killian if it wasn't for the sound of his laughter; the last time they heard him laughing that way, he was just a child.

«And what if it happened?» he asked, a smile still lingering on his lips.

«What?» she asked back, so innocent that Killian couldn't help but believe her. Killian was a handsome man, about thirty years old, and his good looks had always ensured him of easy conquests with lovely, but predictable women that were far different from Maleficent. In many ways.

«What if, _one day_, _perhaps_,» he mocked her and her crimson lips gifted him another smile, «I start caring for you? What if I fall in love with you?» She raised her eyebrow, but the look on her face was still jovial.

«Why would you?» she asked, and Killian couldn't help but soften, insomuch as Maleficent got confused, even scared. She didn't know the look on his face, or its meaning, but she knew that it was different than the look in his eyes last night, the night when he joined her unexpectedly, the night when she couldn't step away from him even though her entire being was screaming in alarm, the night when she stayed in his arms longer than she should have, the night she felt frightened as never before.

«It's not something you can control. It just happens. You cannot decide if, when, and how to fall in love with someone» he tried to explain, but she looked confused and he couldn't stop himself from laughing a bit. «You've never felt this way, do you?»

«I don't want to be meticulous, I swear, but do you really believe I had the opportunity of meeting anyone since I arrived here?» she said, and, gesturing so naturally that it was almost unbelievable, she pointed out the devastation she was the master of. Killian should have been mad at her and he partially was, but the feeling that he got was different than the anger after she spoke.

«Wouldn't you like to feel it?» he asked, curious to know what her thoughts were. Snapping at his bottom lips, his stormy blue eyes glanced over her face. He knew he shouldn't think of it, but she was stunning and her beauty even seemed to have grown since the last time they spoke, as if the atmosphere around them was playing to make her more and more beautiful.

«You mean, would I like to care about someone – or his memory – so desperately to trade my life in exchange for his and beg him to move on, while I'm stuck in a strange place, far away from the people who love me?» Once again, Killian laughed and he couldn't help but ask himself how that was possible, that his mood changed so much from the moment he walked into her room? How was that possible considering that she was the reason of his uncertainty?

«It looks awful that way» he told her. A soft breeze blew around them and between them, and a strand of her dark hair brushed against his cheek before she put it behind her ear.

«Now you know how people look at you.»

«Are you always so biting?» he asked, once again with that naughty look on his face that made him win many women's heart. That was the first time he was not using it to seduce someone; he was just feeling that way, no other reason.

«Oh no! Only when I am not horrific or cruel!»

Hearing those words, Killian laughed heartily, and, for a moment, he had the impression that his grief was nothing more than a dream. A dream like the one he had of Maleficent the night when he came back to his room after dancing with her. The night when, lying on his bed, he dreamt of her being in his arms, on those same sheets where he had been sleeping, and to kiss until he was about to pass out. And the softness of her pale skin seemed so real, her breathless sighs so close, her long-limbed body so _his_ that, when he woke up, he needed to wash himself in cold water to become convinced it was just a dream. It wasn't the desire he had felt for her that upset Killian, but the fact that he was _making love_ with her, the fact that he had saved a tenderness for her that he had never used for any woman he had slept with. And he made love with _Maleficent_, not with Emma who could have been hiding behind her. It was the dream that was the starting point of his tribulations.

«Killian» she said, and, as it had already happened, his name sounded sweeter on her lips. Killian stared at her and his face reflected the seriousness she was showing to him, the sick fire still extinguished in her eyes. «When you came here, you wanted to ask me something. What was that?»

«W-What..?» Killian looked at her in shock and he started to ask himself if she really was able to read his mind, if she knew how confused he was about her. She smiled at him, almost motherly.

«Your eyes are crystal clear, Killian, which means that they would betray you if you would try to hide something to anyone.» She fell silent, enjoying the heartbreak in his blue eyes. «It's beautiful!» Hearing those words, he mirrored her smile.

«There's a lot of Emma in you. Physically I mean. I've noticed it more than once and I was wondering how that was possible» he told her, and his lips reproduced a guilty smirk, as if he was afraid to hurt her by admitting his doubts, but she smiled at him with the same understanding sweetness.

«I imagined it, because, sometimes, when you talk to me, there's a particular… tenderness in your eyes, if that's the right word» she mocked herself, and smiled at him even more. The unusual feeling he felt that morning suddenly came back to pester his stomach, but it was different this time, as if he was sorry she felt that way, and Killian was about to lose control of his lips if she didn't go on with her considerations. «I don't know why this happens, Killian.» Once again, his name seemed different on her lips. «Perhaps you love her so desperately that you need to find her somewhere and I am the closest thing to a woman around here.»

In that moment, listening to her, Killian realized something unexpected, something he could have never imagined, because he could not believe it was possible: Maleficent wasn't even vaguely aware of her beauty, she didn't know how breathtaking her smile, her eyes, and her voice were; she wasn't aware of the power of her attractiveness and that meant she didn't think she was pleasant. But, above all, she couldn't believe that someone could find her attractive, that someone could _truly_ enjoy the idea of spending time with her, that someone could _want_ to be with her. Looking at her, Killian couldn't wash away the impression that she believed she wasn't enough; not pretty enough, not charming enough, not brilliant enough, not amusing enough, not sweet enough, not normal enough, not perfect enough, not human enough. _Simply not enough_.

«God!» he whispered, and he raised his hand up until he reached her cheek; his fingertips plunged in her hair, his thumb caressed her skin, tenderly, and his mouth gave her another sweet, loving smile. Maleficent thought he wasn't looking at her, but at the woman he loved and with whom he would have liked to spend his life. When the insane fire of her wickedness would have been lifted, the memory of his love for Emma would have pleased her. «That's not the truth, not always» he breathed, as if he was admitting it to himself. «Today, I haven't thought about her, about Emma, not even when we were talking about her. I was thinking of you, I was talking to you, my tenderness was all for _you_.»

«Killian…» she said and her fingers wrapped around his waist, pushing him away from her, her expression impossible to read. Unexpectedly, Killian's hand slipped into hers until he wrapped her fingers back and squeezed them.

«Don't leave, please. Let _me_ go!» He knew he could not explain the reason of something to her that he wasn't able to understand himself.

«Why?» she asked, her voice a slight murmur, and, for the first time, she was the one stuck by his gaze.

"_Because I can't handle you running away from me_" he would have said, but he tightened his lips and smiled. Slowly, he bent down until his mouth touched the skin of her hand and, closing his eyes, he rested a delayed kiss on it, followed by a long sigh. Then he released her fingers and, not even looking at her, he turned his back and left the room.

When he went through it, an uncontrollable wind blustered around the castle, echoing through the palace, across the dying forest, as if it was a screamed litany, no words, no sound. And that wind pestered the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest with the same virulence, forcing them to lock their houses, bolt their doors and windows, and pray to the magicians, saints, or gods they believe in to spare their children's life. They were scared as much as the wind and its cry. Scared and melancholic.


End file.
